Sunday, December 1, 2013

Today, while I was trawling on twitter, I saw this
interesting video game article linked. It was entitled "Castro rebel videogame is huge hit in Cuba." This headline instantly drew me in because it had
three things going for it, it was about video games, Fidel Castro (I have more
respect for him than Che), and the role of technology/art in a leftist based
society like Cuba. While the article is
short, it is just the audio transcription of the video report, this is not the
1st time I have heard of the gaming culture in this small Island nation.

A couple years ago I remember a thread popping up on
Teamliquid.net, the biggest Starcraft community site around, about a small isolated group of players from Cuba, of all places. This land of the accursed,
as we are told by our government, have been under an embargo from the United
States since the 60s, and the country of course has surrendered economic
advance for the welfare of the people, so things like fast internet speed and
high end PCs are rare. This though made Brood War a great game for the youth,
since it does not require a new computer or internet, players can play directly
through LAN. While this may be a shock to many Americans, where we are told are
our whole lives Capitalism= Fun and Good, while Socialism= Boring and bad,
where things of necessity, which give people a lot of self importance, have
such a high value. But the truth of the matter is, the newest items we see on
the shelves now, the Cubans, will see in some form in 10-20 years. Also Starcraft is such a great game, a great
games will find themselves a community in any place, as long as people have
food and power.

The game though that this article is on is a homegrown Cuban
game, which is super interesting, as we see the party ideology at work here.
Instead of being a game that is purely being played for recreational and sport
reasons, this "Gesta Final" title is a state sponsored historical
shooter, that inserts you into the Guerilla war that put Castro into power. The
developer states that kids like games, and what way better to educate the
teenagers about the history of their country through a First-Person Shooter, a
popular genre amongst PC gamers. Glorifying war is another debate, but I guess
the older generation of Cubans would like to show the sacrifices their
forerunners made to overthrow the military regime back in 1959. This
combination of art and revelation is something that I think all great pieces of
work should have, as multitasking through
mediums is an effective and productive usage of time. It is interesting to me
because this is what I kind of envisioned as valuable resources in the pop
culture field when I took my Philosophy of Art class. Infusing things that young
adults enjoy with revolutionary ideas . Like in the United States, we get the
US military pouring money into their own game like America's Army, which tried
to simulate modern warfare to draw in potential virtual trigger happy recruits, and throwing tons of
money into advertisement and gaming organizations like MLG (Major League
Gaming) to attract the same crowd.
Games, like all art, have been used for political purposes, but fuck the
people who try to use it to recruit more people into the armed forces of the US
empire. With the advent of technology reaching new heights in military application, see drone warfare, video games and real life may be one in the same.

While the game's graphics look at least 10-15 years old, and
these media outlets may be exaggerating the popularity of the game within the
youth community, it is an interesting thing to see. Here's a screenshot of the
action.

Sunday, November 24, 2013

My Grandmother's health has really declined in the last couple of weeks ago, she has become as weak as she was around the time she was admitted to the hospital. My grandpa, who holds so much faith in her ability to fight the lung cancer (a fight she did have but the cancer seems to come back stronger when compared to a year ago), has recently realized how weak she has become, and now is pained with worry. They have been enjoying the days sometimes, with stories like how young people think they know everything and how I don't look a Catholic Priest during WWII anymore (when I had my big beard a few years ago, they always said I looked like one), but other times I can sense their apprehension and anxiety, it is a wild ride that is throws its twists and turns. However the laughs, stories and smiles I get, and have gotten to exchange with them, is something I hold dear to my heart for the rest of my life.

Found this on reddit just today, what an inspiring image macro. One of my personal favorite quotes from an old Brazilian man of the cloth, Dom Helder Camara, on the hypocrisy of religion, and the powers that pervert any true intentions of spiritual doctrine.

An old school Melee player, Wife (or Chris Fabiszak), a
peach main and one of the best team players in the history of the game,
chronicled his stories as a progamer during the era of when Super Smash
Brothers Melee got a spot on the highly touted and respectable MLG pro circuit
back in 2006-2007. He outlines his competitive spirit, and the tragic
circumstances that forever changed his life. The book is a modest size, 92
pages, but Wife is an amazingly eloquent writer. This free e-book might be oneof the most fascinating reads I have ever read, in regards about competitive
gaming. Even as someone who has known about this side of competitive gaming, the
insight of someone who saw it in its fledgling birthright is incredibly
enlightening. And in that same vein, the writer writes it in a narrative that
even people who have never touched the game, can still understand the
intricacies and the feats these people trained for. Just how he writes the
story, it is something that gamers, and these nerdy sub-cultures, often gloss
over in telling stories. It is very human, not just robots or impressionable
sponges absorbing information, but a person, going through adversity.

The story is introduced with an epilogue, about
"Ben," the name that the title of the book is referring to. He was
the author's friend who he was extra close during high school. Funny,
intelligent, caring, the man was a force of positivity. He had a sweetheart too,
her name was Caroline. Together they were fine, but she also had a big heart,
as she felt bad for Ryan, a person in their grade, who was the loner type. She
befriended Ryan, but what she didn't know that Ryan had a deep attraction to
her. However, Ben was the one not to be petty about something like that, and they allowed him to hang around
them. Chris, or Wife, explains this dynamic, and how one day, just like any
other day, he founds his friend, Ben, poisoned with Cyanide, by Ryan. His close friend suffered from the poison,
and while they did found in time what was wrong to save his beating heart, his
brain already suffered irrecoverable action. At 17 years young, Ben was
murdered.

You learn about the struggles of the author, and how his
depression of his life, became a looming beast in his day to day life. He
looked for escape and solice, and he found it, in competitive gaming, or more
specifically in the Children's party game Super
Smash Brothers Melee.

It is such a captivating read, some things of note with this
amazing E-book-

The way he describes "tags" or "ID" is
really nice, he introduces the idea of rappers, and how they all have monikers
that they relate to in the rap world, then he segways about gamer IDs, and how
serves as a similar function.

Explaining the video game, and the things that make it
beautiful, literally poetry in motion, is said so eloquently.

How he treated the game "professionally," he
wanted to do this full time, to quote his inner logic, being a progamer is fun,
regular life is not, how he is honest about these things, that we have not
heard from E-sport athletes being honest about.

It is nice to see passion people grow and develop this
passionate community for a great video game.

Friday, November 15, 2013

It
was a rather quiet night in the small mining town of Butte, Montana. The owner
of the settlement’s only hotel was a quaint old lady, who was sitting at the
front desk, half asleep in her comfortably old-fashioned rocking chair. She suddenly
woke up when five men walked hastily through the front door. Startled by the
sudden intruders, she gathered some courage to ask the question as all five of
them were giving her a look like she owed their boss some money.

“Whooo…are
you?? What do you want??”

“We
are officers, and we want Frank Little. What room is he in?”

The
men were dressed in some sort of black uniform that was not of any particular
regular government issue kind, and their faces were riddled with mustaches and
beards. They had looks of bucko mates that you would never want to meet in
a dark alley. She was hesitant at 1st to cooperate but when
she saw the gents were packing, she gave into their wishes. She timidly pointed
down the hallway signaling where he was resting for the night.

“Uhhh,
Room 12.”

The group of men jetted quickly down the corridor
as if they just stole from J.P. Morgan and Co. They charged into the room as
quickly as they ran in. Inside there was a middle-aged scruffy chap wrapped in
blankets who was deep in slumber. Three of the intruders held down the sleeping
man. With a towel from the room, and some rope, the other two tied up and
gagged him good. Right there he was as helpless as a crab on its back and still
in his night clothes, which was nothing more than his underwear really. Once
completely gone, the three who pinned him down also carried him out of the sleeping
quarters and as the other two went 1st to deal with anyone that
would cause them trouble. Only the elderly lady was yelling at them as the
plug-uglies made their escape outside to the sidewalk and their black Cadillac car
parked by the street corner.

With
the extra rope end that was used in tying him up, the gunsels ended up connecting
it to the bumper of the car. They all got in the vehicle and drove at a
tortoise-slow speed along main street. They could hear cries of pain from their
human contraband, as the rocky unpaved roads were rough terrain for the man to
handle. Their souls were as black as the paintjob of their fancy Tin
Lizzie.

He
was still gagged so his cries for help were being muffled. The only people
awake at this time in town were the Micks who drank ‘till they could see the
Virgin Mary. And they were just as useless as the kidnappee.

They drove for about 20 minutes until they
reached the railroad trestle that traversed the river at the edge of town.
They all got out of the automobile and tried to put a noose on their victim,
but even after the torturous car ride, he fought with the gusto he had left and
surprisingly fended the bastards offs. It was not until one of them used the
butt of his piece to coldcock him. Then they slipped the rope on the unconsciousness
fellow, tied a flawless hangman’s knot on the railroad track, pinned a note on
his body, and threw him off the side and watched the body plummet like a sack
of potatoes in the air until they could hear the snap of the neck.

On
August 1, 1917 Frank Little was pronounced dead.

In
the cornhusker state of Nebraska, a mild mannered Quaker man would court a Cherokee
woman. Even though they came from what would be considered different worlds to
most folk, their values, ethics and codes that they lived by were the same.
Preaching peace, social justice, and equality, they would find a common ground.

They
would bring 6 children into this world of unsteady times, and all of them were
born red. One of them went by the name Frank Little, who went on to be one of
most influential figures in American labor history. He was a Hard Rock Miner,
Labor Organizer, Free Speech Advocate, War Dissenter, and a Legend.

The Miner

Fremont,
Colorado was your typical burg at the turn of the Century, especially in the Wild
West. It was a company town, where people settled in the area to get jobs
harvesting some sort of raw material. This area of Colorado was hard rock Shangri-la,
and the autocrats thought sticking pieces of wood into land that has
been there longer than their great grandparents would claim it as theirs, and
apparently it works if you got a half-decent shyster. This brought thousands of
able bodied men to the frontier for work. A handful of miners were having
dinner at the local greasy spoon, where they were chit-chatting over the day’s
events.

“We
lost poor o’ Bill in the bridal chamber today, the cave-ins are getting’ more
rampan’ since we’ve been going deeper.”

“
And with Uncle Yeltzin’s lungs giving out last week, us minners are dropin like
flies..”

“He
wasn’t even 30 years old, but seems like he was most senior out all of us.”

“And
the money ain’t even that good.”

“But
if quit, we aint eatin what we eatin’ right now.”

“
And if you trying telling the plutes about money stuff, they fire you and your
name gets on the list of you ain’t finding no more work.”

While
almost all of the miners were complaining about how the bosses exploit their
workers so much, they made no effort in their mind to fix it as they thought
one day their hard work will pay off and they would get that Pie in the Sky
that preachers like to tell the poor. One man though, who went by the name of
Frank Little, stood their quietly listening to the complaining. He was a young
fellow from Nebraska, who moved to this part of America to embark in his
journey of independence. He only had been working in the mines for a month but
he understood what was happening as if he was there for years.

“You
know there what the problem here is fellas….”

The
man who spoke was someone of a different breed. As a kid, he wanted to learn
how to read so he could the Little Red Book. His brother Alonzo organized
immigrant farm workers in Southern California, Hank was in jail in Seattle for
inciting riots, and brother Fredrick was a traveling guitar player who played
for the workers of the world. His blood was red.

“…You’re
not organized, one person who makes a demand is complaining, 1,000 people who
make a demand is a force to be reckoned with.”

He
began to preach the men about the power of unions, collective bargaining, and
the thing the bosses and barons feared the most, strikes. He knew of a union
that met the needs of the men, the Western Federation of Miners.

“
Miners have the most dangerous job in the world, and in today’s world, it might
be the most lucrative job as well. We all should be gettin’ the damn treatment
we deserve.”

“
Who’s going to confront the boss? It’s not like he is afraid of you, or any of
us, we all be replaceable here.”

Frank
smiled at that concern, he was amused. No way in the name of Mother Jones was
he going to be intimated by those slimy pigs, they were going to fear him. He
answered all the concerns from his colleagues, his blunt yet fiery nature made
him a favorite out the miners and his ability to inspire direct action made him
the agitator from hell for management. A Cherokee Communist, his blood was
truly red.

“
Well, you see they think that we are so desperate for jobs and that they can
play us like chickens fighting over feed, but we can have, and what we
should strive for, is solidarity. Cooperation not competition. We are all
brothers that make that fat son of a bitch who he is, he does not make us.”

The
man from Nebraska slowly converted his workmates into card carrying union
miners, where they fought for better pay, improved safety conditions, and job
security in the an environment more fatal than most war trenches. His work as
an organizer was so admired that he became a leader in the Western Federation
of Miners.

The mining unions of the west soon
became part of a bigger movement and in 1906, that movement was officially
born. The founding convention of the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW) happened
in Chicago and Frank Little was a conventioneer. His work with miners was so
well respected that he was voted to take part in the original congress that
drafted their constitution; his signature can be seen on the original document.
One union for all, that was their
slogan, and “Workers of the World Unite” was their motto. Wobblies, what
members of the IWW are called, fought against the capitalist interests that
plagued the sands of equality.

While some of his comrades spread
their message of industrial syndicalism through pamphlets, books and
newsletters, Frank preferred to be out in the battlefield. He never had a
permanent residence and never married. He essentially had no ties to anyone,
but just to the cause that is the working class. He was known as the hobo agitator.

The
Free-Speech Advocate

A
train arrives in the bordertown of Spokane, Washington.
Spokane is thee transportation hub for the Pacific Northwest of the States,
transporting goods and supplies from the Great West back east. Hordes of people
got off the rattler, whether it is young strapping lads trying to find work or
families moving here to start businesses, they were told the American Dream is
here. However, far away from coach, two men who were riding the rail jumped off
the cargo cars before the Shacks came and give them trouble. The men brushed
off their dirty duds, put on their hats, and moseyed on towards town.

The
city was booming, as the two gents walked down the main drag, they saw large
buildings filled with all different kinds of business, to Balkan owned grocery
stores, Chinese food joints, and even land prospecting supplies. One thing
though that was a sight to be seen was the disturbing amount of boys in blue and
soldiers on the streets. Common folk were the minority in terms of who you
could see walking around in Spokane. The two men ended up walking down to skid
row but it still continued to mirror what would be best described as an Austrianmilitary state. Taking a gander at the
scenery, the two gentlemen’s focus was taken elsewhere when a tall man wearing
a white port uniform called for their attention from the alley adjacent to
them.

“
Hey you two, come over here.”

Walking
towards the lengthy fellow, the two men then introduced themselves.

“
My name is Frank Little, and my colleague righ’ here is James Cannon. Word on
the grapevine here is that good people of Spokane can’t do anything.”

The
lofty sea stiff eye’s had opened as if he was starting at something small in
the distance. He knew who they were. They were walking delegates, card men,
wobblies sent from the General Assembly. Wobblies who have dealt with these
situations. He told the story of Spokane.

“
The governor is wealthy man who controls the commerce and the military here in
Spokan’. Me and my boys at the dock were getting paid like dirt,
and even though the city is exploding with business, not any of us has seen pay
cent raise. So we tried to get a union going, along with the coal passers,
plough jockeys, and boomer boys, but the governor sniffed it out and shut it
down. He is not letting anyone talk about anything you know, no organizing, no
pamphlets, and no meetings. And as you can see, he’s got a lot of boys in
uniform.”

Pointing
at all the young kids who signed away their life into martial slavery, the
situation looked worse than Joe Hill’s murder trial. Frank though beamingly
look at James, and glanced back at the port worker.

“You
know comrade, this is more than worker’s rights, this is about free speech.
Right to assembly is something that god damn Jefferson wanted fer us all.”

Frank
is a man action, he is more brash than a bundle tosser who sees his last stack.
Within 10 minutes of hearing the initial tale, He marched towards the edge of
the main stem, right in the sight of the officers and the local newspaper
building. He looked around to see who was around in the vicinity, and started
to recite something.

“…We
Hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, and they
are all endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among
these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness…”

He
went on for 30 long minutes, people walking by tried to pay no attention to him
as they did not want to associate with him at all. He did not stop declaring
his god given rights until a few soldiers came and tackled him, and arrested Frank
for public disturbance, treason, and some other trumped up charges. Word
reached the masses that Spokane, Washington was silencing free speech, and eventually
public pressure forced the corrupt mayor to let the workers organize, a win for
the wobblies.

He
was in the can for 30 Days, and they say he never stopped pacing in his cell,
not for one minute.

The Labor Organizer

A
huge crowd of striking dock workers and iron miners congregated around the
marketplace in Duluth, Minnesota. It was 1912, Labor relations have been at an
all time low for the workers, as the company officials completely suppressed
the right to organize. The man in the middle of the gathering was a
representative from the Industrial Workers of the World, his name was Frank
Little.

He
was a stout and yet strong man who wore incredibly raggedy clothes. He
was telling the tales of when he worked as a miner in Colorado, and
how he and his fellow laborers were part of what became the strongest and most
radical union in the country, the Western Federation of Miners. As much power
as his oratating had, what was captivating the interest of the crowd more was
Frank’s looks.

“Yes,
many of you are probably looking at me, and seeing what those goons did to me.”

The
right side of his face was completely bruised, indicative of a dishonorable
beating. His eye on that side of the body too was bloodshot as the thugs
probably clocked a red blood cell in his retina. His right arm was being braced by a crutch,
as his leg was completely wrecked. Even
with all of these ailments, he stood tall.

“Yeah
they kidnapped, roughed me a bit, but because they are scared, scared of all of
you, scared of change, scared of what it means for labor to be organized.”

Frank
was no intellectual scholar or artist from Greenwich Village, he was born and
raised to be scrappy and that is why he was loved. Fearless, even to the point
of arrogance, he showed the capitalist attack dogs who threw him in prison,
dark alleys, or the trunk of cars, that he wasn’t afraid. If he wasn’t afraid
than the strikers wouldn’t be afraid. And if the strikers weren’t afraid, than
the bosses should be.

Frank rose in the Ranks of the IWW,
and become Chairman the General Executive Board in 1915. Here he and the
wobblies would fight the biggest battle of their existence, World War I.

The War Dissenter

All
over the country, radicals and leftists were debating whether the not the US
involvement in Europe’s war should be supported or not. Ask Frank Little and
he’ll tell you:

“The
Great War, as it been named by the politicians and capitalists, is nothing but
kings and despots using their slaveling citizens as pawns in their lethal games.
Workers and Solidiers get nothing out of this dang conflict. We have to believe
in solidarity, let ‘dem do their dirty work. Let the capitalists fight the
battles and we will go into the munitions plants and see they get plenty of
bullets.”

Most
organizers did not want to encourage strikes or any labor
negotiations during war time, as good ole’ Woodrow Wilson was
willing to send the National Guard to break the disputes. For Frank and a
few others in the IWW, this was best time to stir up trouble, as it would
undermine a wealthy man’s war. However the large stakes would create deadly
backlash for the wobblies.

The Legend

It was no secret who killed Frank
Little. The Anaconda Copper Company in Butte, Montana hired Pinkertons, thugs
and hitmen of the wealthy, to slay the hobo agitator. He was one of many
casualties of activists and revolutionary figures during these volatile of
times. However the infallible Frank Little, who seemingly survived more battles
than Napolean Bonaparte, met his maker in 1917.

In
the few months before Frank’s Little murder, a young man named Conn Lowney
would see the striking miners and the infamous organizer trek back from the
mine to their housing. Conn worked in the
barbershop but also was a proud card carrying member of the IWW, as with every
working man, woman, and child in Butte.

One
day three gentlemen walked into the shop, looking sharp with their slick and fancy
coats coupled with their fedoras, Lowney knew that these chaps were from out of
town but not scabs looking for work but something more evil. Scabs are pretty
high on the list of evils though. The tallest one wished for a haircut
but the other two were discussing something. Trying to get closer without being
too suspicious, the young wobbly picked up his broom and started sweeping
around the area of the gentlemen, but could only hear snippets of certain words.
One being Little, and he knew what to do with that piece of gossip.

When
the miner’s walked across the town that day after striking, Conn left his shop
and looked frantically in the crowd for Frank Little. He found him lagging
behind the crowd.

“Hey
Frank, some city folk are in the shop and I herd them rumorin’ about you. I
reckon you should be careful.”

The
proud half-breed gave a smirk that was famous in the west, a smile that stood
in the face of adversity and spit right back in its face. No matter what shape
he was in, he always had an air of confidence with him that empowered the
worker’s around him. He belted out a hearty laugh.

“
Don’t worry son, it won’t be the 1st time I gotta look out for
mysef.”

The
young lad was eased by Frank’s assurance, he looked up to the man and knew that
he has been through the gutter and back, and back again. He returned inside the
barbershop.

The
next day Frank Little was found lynched on the nearby railroad trestle. A note
was pinned to his mangled carcass , “…First and Last Warning.” Sadness and
concern of more murders soon overtook the mood of the union town, especially
for Conn Lowney. The criminal investigation was never properly investigated,
but the townfolk knew who did it, but the law can be bought just as easily as
apple pie.

That
night, Conn would break into the police headquarters and he pinned a new sign
on Frank’s body. It said:

“
Slained by Capitalist Interests for organizing and inspiring his fellow men.”

To this day, you can see that quote
on his burial in Butte, Montana.

*This is a story I wrote back in my creative writing class in college, one of the better courses I took during my tenure at UOG. It's influenced by history, but the scenes are romanticized a bit and dialogue is speculation at best, but the themes and messages are all there. It is about Frank Little, a person I have blogged about before, a labor agitator and organizer at the turn of the 20th century. I enjoyed this piece a lot, it really was so much fun to write.

My days recently have been pretty packed, my Grandpa is trying to find every reason to blame for my Grandma's sub par health, but the actual reason/sickness. Wanted to play my Trombone too today but my Grandpa didn't want the noise inside the house. Bless his heart (She has impaired hearing). Had some laughs with them today which makes me happy to see them smile, I really do feel their love of me, and how they give me so much respect and courteous when I have my girlfriend visits Like, today, had a nice and expansive conversation today. Enjoyed each other's presence immensely as well.

The song title really confused me, wasn't too sure to think with the name like "Kick a Buck." Where I grew up was deer country, it really was the kind of place that cars would get ruin by crashing into large Bucks during the night, and it was the name of my middle school band director, and his son who I was pretty good friends with. So personally, it struck a chord in me, but as a ska song, it really could be anything.

So I pressed play, and hear the intro, which I believe is the chord progression being strummed by the guitar and backed by the bass, ok so 1st impressions, I like the beginning, it is an old school 1st wave feel, a short intro, right before the skank section, or the beat. But once the beat came in, with the drums and the keys, man the groove is undeniably catchy. That organ sound with the descending melody line, it is vivacious. It really does sound like a video game track, because with that catchy hook, it has the higher register too, which really admits like a playful and colorful town setting. The 1st game that it reminded me was Earthbound, which is something way back in the day. I remember renting it, and it was one of the special games that had a large packaging box because it came with a strategy guide, the game was difficult. Played it and beat it, but that was years ago. But I've heard music from the series through great games like Super Smash Brothers. Here's the 4 main characters from the game, and now imagining them walking through a little city in cute little party, that's what I am imagining with this track.

The organ playing is slick, the usage of the long held notes followed by stagnant series of short ones really creates a "hoppy" feeling. The bass too adds to the "homey" flavor, while everything is moving, such as the melody and the upbeat hits by the rhythm voices, you hear the foundation being belted. Awesome.

Monday, November 11, 2013

" We have a sneak preview of the wonderful new graphic novel currently being created by artist Kate Evans (twitter; @cartoonkate). The editor is Paul Buhle and the project is funded by the Rosa Luxumberg Stiftung in Berlin.

The graphic novel is due for publication in 2014.

Looks pretty cool, material that combines leftist historical figures and comic books is an instant buy in my book. Active as a political party leader and resistance figure in Germany during WW1 (even imprisonment), their revolution ended though in 1919, not with a whisper but a bang, as they took the streets of Berlin during Spartacist Uprising, but poor planning by leadership allowed the counter-revolutionary parties to squash it. Her story and her work are all so incredibly interesting, as she was killed during that uprising. Kurt Weill, the composer, wrote the Berlin Requiem and included these words in her honor.

Red Rosa now has vanished too (...)She told the poor what life was about,And so the rich has rubber her out.May she rest in piece.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

** My days lately have been so packed, but the free time I've had I've tried to make the best of it. My Grandpa is going to the heart doctor today, just for a checkup, hope everything is all right. Been reading more of my old stuff during down time, and learning from it. This is the continuation from the last post, and talks about Savior's foe in that series, my favorite "E-athlete" of all time, Iris. Enjoyed his crazy gameplay, heart, and humble nature. Here is his handsome self.

The Terran that Shares
a Name with a Flower, a Song, and a Korea Drama

To give
a classical musical analogy, if Savior was Beethoven, than his opponent and
friend Iris was Modest Mussorgsky, a
respected and solid composer with memorable compositions, but no pieces that
they’ll put in any space capsules that show alien species organized sound that
embodies the human soul.

Byun Hyun Tae was given the nick
name “Berserker” by his fans of Balls-to-wall aggression, especially in TvT, as
he entered the scene as a monster in the mirror matchup with 10 straight wins.
His usage of drops to break positions and out strategize his foes made him
lethal in an era where lines drawn on the battlefield but never contested for.
He definitely embraced the legacy of his dongseng Xellos in the TvT matchup, where their army movements and small
skirmish style soon became the adapted style in TvT. Later he adapted his love
of dropships in the other matchups as well, and continued to put the pressure
on his opponents rather them himself. To put in statistical terms, Iris held the best win percentage in
2006, with a 77% win rate in Terran versus Terran.

With terrans doing so well with
every league because of the current map pools, this was just simply a godsend
for Iris. This meant more terrans were
in brackets and he smashed other terrans. In the Ro16 od this OSL, he got his
wish and squared against the Terran versus Terran master of old, Goodfriend. The posterboy of mediocrity,
and Nal_Ra’s pimp hallucination arbiter play, showed he was a step behind with
the time as Iris came out on top 2-0
in standard TvT firefight. It was only a matter of time that he had to be
tested in his other matchups, and this became true as he had had a Terran
versus Zerg in the next tournament stage.

Iris’s TvZ historically has been
his 2nd strongest matchup, right after his terrifying mirror.
Traditionally a matchup that favors terran aggression, he maintained this theme
in his play. His zergopponent in the Ro8 was Zergman, a lesser known player for KTF and further proof that zerg players just lacked creativity as
they have this burning desire put the name of their race in their IDs (put a
list of “Zerg” players).Azergling rush on the 1st map put the KTF
player ahead, but slow defilers from Park Sung Joon and close spawning
positions evened up the score with an Iris
win. On the last set, played on Neo
Arkanoid, Iris defended the Mutalisk harass well, a little miss control
from the zerg helped a bit, and pushed hard into the Zerg player before
Guardians came out to play. While Iris looks to have a decent grasp of the matchup, it is important to note that he is
also riding high from the terran dominance so he might have a chance of success
with the best player in the world.

Internal Strife

Savior and Iris have a history even before their epic encounter in this
starleauge, as amateurs they were both part of the (GM) clan, or Good Mannered. An old-school clan that was the home
to many Brood War legends, such as
the “Death God” Anytime, the man who
invented Mutalisk stacking Shark, and
even the Protoss Commander Stork himself.
As they are of the same age, they even came onto the pro scene together. The
two were both recruits to the team that Xellosbuilt,
Suma GO, which eventually became CJ Entus.

They nurtured and grew together through the ranks of
the Suma GO team, but Savior became the
ace and eventual bonjwa while Iris for
awhile was not even the top terran of the team, that title belonged to Xellos. While this may have discouraged
many people to be content with their role on their team, this was not the case
for the Berzerker terran. Savior run
and reign of domination within Starcraft only fueled his teammate to train
harder and become well rounded top player, and around this time is when his
hard work reaped its benefits.

Ma Jae Yoon
knew all too well what life on the top was like in contrast to his friend who
thirsted greatly for ultimate victory. It is also always important to point out too that
this was teammate versus teammate battle, therefore this becomes more about
just a Terran and Zerg player showing up to play a friendly match, but a fierce
battle of wits of two people who lived, played, and ate together. In practice
though, Savior casually reported that
Iris beats him more times than not in
the internal rankings matches. And leading up to this match, they have been
keeping away all and anything to their temporary foe to hold onto any real edge
for the televised games. This series had the beginnings of something truly marvelous.

Saturday, November 9, 2013

*** Reading through some things I've written today and ran through some chapters I drafted up for a Brood War book that I really wanted to complete a few years back. It was about the "top 10" Brood War matches of all time, as determined by me, the writer, as it explains my favorite and the most historic simulated battles that professional players of this E-Sport have partaken in. This entry is about Savior vs Iris, a popular match in the annuls of Starcraft history. This is the 1st few pages of it, about the infamous figure Savior. A pic of him down below.

~

A Maestro's Opus

Dominance
in sports can be a double-edged sword, there are people who revel and cheer on
for this almost mythic figure or entity, and see how long their greatness can
last. Take Michael Jordan, who showed the world for 6 years he was unstoppable.
There are other people who enjoy diversity and are disgusted by the fact that
one person is winning everything and their hands holding a trophy becomes déjà vu.

Whatever
your opinion on is about single-player dominance, what it does create an
entertaining scenario. Anti-fans of the said player often rally around anyone who can slay the beast while
their loyal fans enjoy the constant of state of euphoria. The whole spectating
community watches on to see if someone rises to the occasion or another day of
utter humiliation for some unlucky chaps. Savior,
or Ma Jae Yoon is his birth name, was either a villain to the masses, or a hero
to the herd during his prime as player. As a zerg progamer, he became the 1st
dominant player of that chosen race, who showed flawless and inspiring play
against every opponent.

Ma Jae
Yoon showed his dominance for over year in Starcraft
Brood War, making it to the finals of 6 straight consecutive starleagues
and leading his team to the playoffs with the highest individual win percentage
to boot. He played his song perfectly, and no one could match its glory and
remarkability. However over time though he slowly lost his traction and looked
almost mortal. With every player, map, and organization working against Ma Jae
Yoon, he still soldiered on.

In the ShinHan OSL 2007 Starleague,he would give his last masterpiece to his fans. Just
like Beethoven, Bruckner, Vaughn Williams, and Mahler, whose ultimate piece of work was
also their most painful and heartfelt one. Ma Jae Yoon even looked mortal in
this competition and when it looks like a God loses his immortality, everyone
watches. His style has been studied and therefore countered, the maps are
basically Zerg graveyards, and his thirst for victory is no longer as
invigorating as it once was. But as a true champion who will stand strong when
tested by the sands of time, he overcame it all.

The God of The
Battlefield

For a person with who had
tremendous impact on the scene, Ma Jae Yoon had humble beginnings. As an
amateur, he played under the tag IPXzerg,
and showed particular impressive management play in his games. In 2004, he was
picked up by the Suma GO pro team, a
team with young talent like himself. After what became the most innocuous name
change in progaming history, IPXzerg
became Savior, channeling the spirit
to defy the terran kings who dominated the scene and a tag that harbored his
aura of otherworldly abilities. In his only 2ndStarleague attempt,
he would claim ultimate victory in the UZOO
MBC Game StarcraftLeague, besting the protoss hero Reach in a PvZ finals.

While
not a royal roader, his MSL win was still that should be impressive but at that
time he did not get the credit he deserved. Zergs were dominating the in
leagues, especially against Protoss. Ma Jae Yoon’s victory was said to due to
racial imbalance in the matchup. In the next MSL though, he showed that
lighting strikes twice as he advanced to finals again, but lost to the Veteran
zerg Choja in a tense ZvZ series. While
he did claim 1st place in this starleague, people started to take
note of the people Savior was beating
and how he was beating him.

Ma Jae
Yoon revolutionized how the game was played, he took the management style that GoRush pioneered and mastered it.
Favoring fast high tech play to gain advantages, Savior had to prepare how to defend from proper timings and attacks
so he simply did not lose. He often looked like as if he used the bare minimum
needed to stay alive in the situation at hand.

Savior also popularized the defiler,
fully abusing and exploiting a unit in the zerg arsenal that made Terrans
shiver in the sight of their clouds of doom. They were the perfect the unit to
spearhead Savior’s battleplans, using
them to with small groups of Zerg forces, to hold off aggression or performing
a surgical attack, Ma Jae Yoon used this late-game spellcaster to its full
potential. Rather than focusing on Zerg’s obvious strength of mass troop
production and reinforcement, the Maestro incorporated other tactical ideas
that were not being heavily explored by his zerg counterparts making him the
man who forged the path of the modern Zerg tactics.

While
his style and approach the game changed the way we thought about Brood War, what else set him apart was
his army movements and strategic control on the battlefield. His most well
known nickname is the Maestro. He
would conduct the swarm with the fluidity and grace of Karajan, but with the power
and might of Bernstein. One of his iconic masterpieces was against none other
than IloveOOV, who ate zerg players
for breakfast, on Ride of the Valkyres.
The Maestro lives up to his name as he orchestrates the swarm on a grand scale
to break a seemingly ironclad defensive terran position, shocking the world
with his style and gusto. While his mechanics were not the best in the scene,
he had to rely on his game knowledge and tactical skills, two categories in
which he was unirvaled in.

As the
2006 year came around, Savior became
truly the 1st zerg to be feared and dominant on the scene. Slaying
the best player in the world IloveOOV
in multiple starleagues, leading his newly funded and corporate sponsored team CJ Entus to the top of the proleague, he
became a monster. Slaying Nal_Ra and
lesser known zergSilver in one-sided
starleague finals, only a certain terran called Midas, a former clanmate and teammate, gave Ma Jae Yoon a scare, but
ultimately fell short as Savior is
still being talked about, for both positive and negative reasons, while latter
fell in A/B Team obscurity for years until his eventual retirement.

What Goes Up, Must
Come Down

Even
though Savior had all the momentum in
the world, in 2007 leagues started to introduce new maps that were heavily
Terran favored. Maps like Reverse Temple,
Neo Arkanoid, and Longinus 2 were dubbed zerg graveyards. Savior
even quoted on that he was able to win on these maps as Terran against other
professional zergs, that is how tough it was.If this was an attempt to bring
down Savior a notch, than history tells us that it certainly failed. While many
of his brooding brethren’s felt the wraith of these horribly imbalanced maps, Ma
Jae Yoon wrote a new chapter in his story and continued making his case of why
he was the greatest competitor in this sport.

In the Shinhan06 Bank OSL, 9 Terrans, 6 Zergs,
and one lone Protoss made it to the Round of 16. Terrans were demolishing any
race in their path, and with competent terrans like Nada, IloveOOV, Midas, and Hwasin still
in the player pool, the Pride of War looked as if they were adding another
trophy to their collection.

Savior’s
path consisted of dodging a bullet with his Ro16 opponent Midas, who was one
scan from taking the series but instead lost 5 crucial tanks to a couple of
lurkers. Whether this was due to Midas having
nerve problems or the gods who watch over our world wanted to keep Ma Jae
Yoon’s aura of invincibility evident, one may never know. In the Ro8, he faced
his teammate and Protoss Much, who is
known for his looking older than his actual age and his creative Protoss
tactics. However nothing in his strategy book was effective against Savior, as the only zerg Bonjwa sweeped
him in clean 2-0. His next opponent was someone that he has quite a history
with, a both friendly and competitive one.

~

Throughout College Starcraft was my "Football," or the sport that other males tend to gravitate towards to when they want to get their mind off normal duties. Enjoyed writing about it.

"Quality Assurance" Engineer is basically you play
a game and make sure there are no bugs, glitches, and problems with the
programming code. How is this done?? Well by playing sections of the game, over
and over again. Hours and hours of mindless grinding, and basically not fun.
Imagine playing Mario, and you've beaten the 1st stage, it's pretty easy and
you want to continue, but you can't. You have to play the 1st stage only, and
for a 10 hour workday. Sure you try new things and follow the directions of the
programmers, but still, it is a tedious and not a stimulating experience.

People want to do this though, and are attracted to idea of playing
Sony's 1st Party games before anyone else, the exclusivity is such a big
selling point, and want to be game testers. Also the idea of getting paid to
play is such an alluring concept for so many gamers, and I will admit as a
younger and naive kid, I did want to participate in a job like this. But upon further
research, and reading interesting articles like this, "You Can Sleep Here All Night: Video Games and Labor," by Ian Williams, my middle school dream
was quickly changed . This article is an excellent leftist approach to this new
age industry. A few points he makes:

Testers, and many of the entry level job at these video game
companies are terrible.

- Pressured to work 80 hour workdays, to reach deadlines

- Minimum wage with no benefits, many are considered to be
just temp jobs

- The constant of badgering by management and developers,
the more well paid positions, and in turn they are pretty shitty work
conditions.

There are many accounts that verify his points, and people
trying to organize workers in the tech world is a next step in this digital
age, but one section that he elaborates is in is so interesting. A common word
to describe "the ideal employee" in this industry is, passion. Great
games are made passionate people make sacrifices to insure success. This ain't
no passion project, not something you do with people you went to school are
something, you do the work, and you reap the benefits. The guise of passion has
been capitalist tool for free labor and exploitation for centuries. Especially
with the amount of money making games are making nowadays, where GTA5 has already surpassed the 1 billion Dollar profit mark, that kind of talk is
bullshit. Also QA testers are so vital for the development of these games, testing code is long and tedious process, that the coders and designers don't have the time for, they are crucial part of the system.

This whole discourse is allowed because the common geek, no
matter what breed, is very apolitically in their own right. This was covered by
the author in an interesting way that I have heard, and that is he says nerds
are more willing to sacrifice and surround them with their passions. I do agree
with this too, they become very short sighted and many things that do happen
around them are not given the thought they deserve.

Last night I hung out a beach party that was organized by my GF, it was for the Anthropology club and Department for the local
university. While I did get there a
little late, it was my dad's birthday and went out for dinner, the turnout,
food, and the atmosphere all looked mighty fine, even by the time I got there.
Glad it was a success for her! She really does work hard and for her to get
this recognition, and the President spot for the club, is damn awesome. Met
some of her teachers and stuff, always interesting to see how faculty conduct
themselves in a party setting, since that is usually the big difference between
High School and College, you hangout with your professors, outside of class,
more. We were both pretty tired, long
days for both us, so afterwards we relaxed and embraced each other in our arms,
felt so maolek.

New York City has become a Police State, this recent report on Democracy Now talks with a former policemen, and a lawyer, who are trying to
shut down "The Stop and Frisk" policy, which has become an avenue for
racial profiling. Here is a 1st hand account of this policy in action by former
Officer Polanco.

"We would stop a person on the street and on a corner,
because the sergeant says, "Stop him." Why? You don’t ask. You just
stop him, you frisk him. If it’s possible, you search him. And these kids,
sometimes they’re just walking home from school. They’re just walking to the
store. They’re just—they’re not doing absolutely anything. They’re not doing
absolutely anything. And it’s a really humiliating feeling. When they go
through your pockets, when they stop you, you don’t have no freedom. If you
stop and then tell the officer, "I’m not—I don’t have to give you my ID. I
don’t have to give you my name," which is within the law—the law allows
you to do that—you’re going to get hurt. In the Bronx, you are going to get
hurt.

My turning point was with a bunch of kids on a corner
stopped by the commanding officer. There was a 13-year-old Mexican in the
group. "Polanco, cuff him." I said, "For what?" "Cuff
him. You don’t ask me questions. Cuff him, bring him back." His brother come
to ask, "Why? What’s going on with my brother? He’s walking home from
school. Officer, did he do anything stupid?" The commanding officer looked
at my partner, told her, "Cuff him, too. Bring him in." "For
what?" "Oh, we will figure it out later. Just bring him in." And
that was my turning point. That was the time I said, "You know what? Why
should I do it to a kid that’s just walking home from school, that we know is
not doing anything? Why should I do that? This is not what I became a cop for.
This is not what I wanted to do."

He says something later which needs to be echoed more by Law
Enforcement.

"Harassing innocent people is not going to help the
community, it only harms it."

Installing fear into people does not really work, especially in
these strong urban communities with strong cultural identities.

These quotas installed by the Police, forces for results, and does
not give a proactive stance on crime that makes us feel safer, shit is still
going down. Even off duty, Officer
Polanco was a victim of the "Stop and Frisk" policy, from an unmarked
car and an undercover cop, and was never said sorry or why he was targeted. He also talks about the Quotas being illegal,
because it kind of perverts police power, but the whole system is pretty messed
up. The pressure of Police management
and adminstrators to regular officers, about meeting their quotas, is sending
New York City into an almost Orwellian city state.

Polanco ends his interview on the show, by saying that it is so
easy to be a cop right now, go to some street corner and arrest a brown or
black kid, and then put hours of overtime in, and no one is the wiser, especially
not Mayor Bloomberg. Wonderful...

And here's a guide and how to "Be okay with having a communist friend." Not sure if serious or sarcastic, but point 4 kind makes me chuckle. Funny how everyone looks Chinese, with their history and whatnot (Mao).

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Yesterday, I was invited to be a guest on a local radio
show, called "GG." The show refers the expression, "Good
Game," an thing gamers exchange between each other after a worthy match or
battle. The show is hosted by two of my good friends, Rob and Tim, and we all
got together and talked about video games and music! This week's game franchise,
the one I got called in to be an "expert" on, was Phoenix Wright, a
character whose world I do enjoy immensely. The game is about a Defense
Attorney, who goes by the very punny name "Phoenix Wright," His 1st
name referring to him always able to pull out victory from the clutches of
defeat, and his last name being a play on the word that is clearly associated
with law interpretation.

While the gameplay is fun and really engrossing, like
gathering evidence and making breakthrough with witnesses, the charm of the
game comes from the dialogue, character designs, and lovely 2-D drawn graphical
sprites. The game has character, which in a world dominated nowadays with
online multiplayer capabilities and graphics, it is a gem. Also the music,
which is the basis of the radio show, is phenomenal. Here's a track that
showcases how well the compositions depicts a courtroom/law setting.

Some things about the night~

The recording of the show was a lot fun! Before, many years
ago I was one of those people who didn't care much for my voice, like you don't
enjoy the sound of it, but that is just such an idiotic position to hold, I
mean it shouldn't deter you from doing anything. So it was nice to do something
like this, which I have never really done, such an intensive recording
experience with my voice and ideas, not my instrument, being on display. As a kid too one my favorite sitcoms was NewsRadio, a show starring Dave Foley
and Maura Tierney , and its setting is a radio station in New York City. So to
record in Guam's own Public Radio haven, KPRG, was pretty fun and made me think
about that classic show. It was
something I wanted to do, like talk and shit, and enjoy my time, which in the
end I achieved that.

Found this "freestyle" rap the other day, from a Brtish rapper who calls himself NxtGen. I put freestyle in quotes because while could be rehearsed, as it is performed well, but it does not matter to me if its off the dome or written, because the actually rhymes are pretty amazing. Enjoyed it a lot, really appealed to the leftist in me. In the beginning he introduces he wanted to perform for SBTV, a British live music channel, but was never called back because of its strong political nature. Here's the vid.

Some Particular Lines I enjoyed in it~

"This is not a recession blood, it's a robbery."
A direct reference to the banker's bailout, fat cats still are fat.

"... Yet that is there project, putting public money into private pockets."
Just clever word play, public to private.

"What kind of society is this when pigs are profiting off dying kids."
Uninsured children not getting the care because it is too expensive, a crying shame

"You actually believe these hypocrites, hating people on benefits and demonizing immigrants."
What a damn true rhyme, and this is why the richer continue to get richer, because people really do believe these things, the social demeaning of the poor and equating them to economic parasites. Class consciousness has been subdued, it needs to be woken up.

Good stuff, been stressful at the homefront, had some good talks and some deep thinking kind of centered myself to a good place. Been playing more music too, its really great.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Can't wait for this book to come in. Ordered it a few weeks ago, been longing for it since I loaned my copy out to a friend who moved off island. Frank Little, who was slain by capitalist interests for trying to organize strikes during World War I. The cahones of this man, unheard of, since that is treasonous and seditious behavior, especially during wartime. A group of privately hired thugs left him to publicly die in Butte, Montana.

Friday, November 1, 2013

I feel so rejuvenated right now, finally got to rest an
ample amount of time last night, with no distractions or waking up, 8 hours of
constant rest. Been an eventful last 4-5 days around the house, with my Grandma
and Grandpa getting older, and realizing the decline they are partaking in. It
is a tough environment, but it has its moments and I really do care about them,
so I try to take their complaining, with a grain of salt, and just remind
myself it's their ailments talking. Did a nice walk around my street for about
30 minutes while the weather is still not too hot. Miss my pancake though.

Want to finish some work for my Grandfather today, so he can
make a little money and that will give him some temporary relief.

Hope though this afternoon I could get some writing done,
been working on something for my brother Jack, while he is here, we talked
about it in person yesterday quite a bit, it is like a post-apocalyptic story
about a band of kids living in a world where every adult over 18 has disappeared.
So much fun to write and stuff, I'm mixing like Mad Maxx, with Warren Ellis
tech and imagination details, and topping it off with a Boondocks-like political/visual
vibe. Excited to see it come to life.

Read lyrics through a song I liked and I band's music I really do enjoy, the World Inferno Friendship Society, the self named "Punk Orchestra." But one lyric annoyed from this song "Ich Errinere Mich An Weimar Republik." The line is, "Socialists are Boring." O man that is far from the truth, and it hurts me in the feels haha. Whatever the song is referencing, period or history, but man, people on the left invented fun. Than I watched in a live acoustic performance video of them, and how apolitical they are, telling Euros that they are from Canada because they don't want to talk about American politics (But don't even know the Prime Minister of Canada, which is of course Stephen Harper) Sad stuff, but hey, I guess know what they represent as artists and don't pretend to be anything they are not (I guess...). Here's the video I am referring to.

This type of propaganda/political
art is visually, one of my favorite genres. To see how the artist
demonstrates and exemplify whatever they are suppose to sell is an interesting
sight to see. Either it can be incredibly heartwarming and beautiful things to
witness, such as this Pro-republic poster during the Spanish Civil War, or be
incredibly wrenching and vile imagery, such as Nazi art. But whatever side of
the political spectrum the spectator belongs to, it will summon a reaction out
of the audience, and we need more people to get riled up about these important
issues.

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Love this article right here, I've interacted with people who had these misconceptions lately about the government shut down, and the recent "protests" that the Tea Party People have been doing. A few common statements I hear is that.

" Shut down Washington, all crooks..."
" Maybe this will save us from budget problems."
" Finally somebody is standing up..."

These really vague statements that just give in to the very easy anti-government hate train that people ride, and this of course, has merit. US politicians usually do not represent the interests of the majority, except for a select few, Like Bernie Sanders and John Olver, but this DC shutdown is not something that is revolutionary, in fact it is counter-revolutionary. The truth the matter is that:

People in poverty who ask for government assistance got their benefits delayed, and to quote Bill Maher, those conservatives really showed how to stop that poor kid from getting his inhaler, and government workers, like Park Rangers and the EPA (!) who were on indefinite furlough.

Politicians, and select members of the staff, continued to get paid, the DOD and Pentagon still marched on to the their beat of their own drum.

So when I hear people give an off-handed praise to these far-right wingers who wish that environmental laws and public education would be abolished, it is pretty damn disgusting.

"Shut down Washington?" No this did not shut down Washington, it shut down people who are not considered "important" in the grand scheme of things.

"Budget Problems." Au contraire, this just costed the taxpayers more money, as the limbo of the budget bill in the House, just caused the government to perpetrate more debt, as it still wasted money on everything else but Social and Environmental programs.

And the people standing up, are probably not your friends. This kind of conservative backlash is just something that is truly mind boggling. In the United States, we get these sympathizers of the rich, people who believe in the rhetoric perpetrated out by Conservatives since the 1980s, where trickledown economics and giving tax breaks to the wealthy were sold to many Americans as a sound idea. Now they see communists like Obama and Clinton, sarcasm here because in reality, they agree so many issues, and get riled up by a piece of legislature that helps people get health care. The article linked above shows a more detailed look into race and class relationships in the United States, as Farmers and Urban workers have always butt heads, at least culturally. Bernie you are so right.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

A question was asked by somebody in this Facebook group I'm
in, with fellow Guam comic book fans, about who is the better role model, Batman or Superman?

The common consensus among the group was Superman, at least
the vocal majority. Citing examples that he uses his powers for good,
unselfish, and defends the weak. He's a benevolent man who seems to have no noticeable
dark side, but struggles like a real human being. Unlike Batman, who is
considered more to channel such morally wishy-washy values like vengeance, and
making sacrifices for the greater good. So, people should be more like
Superman, it's not what you are, but what you do with what you have that
defines you.

Ok I'm all for this real romantic and super Golden-Age view,
but the truth, the realistic kind and not the justice, of the matter is that Superman is a terrible role model, for the
simple fact he is not human. He is Kryptonian, and if we are to follow the question,
who would make a more exemplary role model for us humans, to model our lives after?

A Greek God with no human flaws? Or a man who worked hard,
albeit with his unlimited resources because you can't devote your life to
training to be a bad-ass without having money for food and board, and became
something that would make a young Bruce happy.

I'm not the biggest fan of Batman, but I'd take him in a
heartbeat over the Man of Steel.

Remember the question, kids, or anyone really, that try to
emulate Superman, are just setting themselves up for failure. He can circumnavigate
the world in minutes and never gets tired, and that is something we will never
be able to experience. Rappeling off buildings walls is something that grueling
physical training can guarantee, to make a comparison.

His heroic deeds are nice of course, but other people defend
the weak and help the helpless, without the help of Kryptonian biology and
yellow sun rays. In the DC universe, people like Green Arrow and Batman, and in
our world, we got Firefighters and EMTs. There is a question that needs to be
asked, and is that when Superman saves someone from an erupting Volcano, is it
even a courageous act? He is no chances of getting hurt, no way his identity is
being compromised, and basically no risk. For someone like him, is this even
something commendable, from a weak human's POV? All things in the world too, disease and famine, why is he not helping the largest causes of death?
All valid questions.

Also, if we are abide the stories of the comics, as instructed
by the topic presenter, all these super powered villains who have the ability
to destroy Earth, face it, because they are the people that are supposed to be
present threats to Superman, these are all end game individuals because the way
Superman is written, he is unstoppable. This has been a philosophical cycle
that has been presented in the medium since the 1970s, and it's basically
supervillains exist because superheroes exist. Creatively, and from a writer's perspective,
this is obvious, because this is how you establish conflict and some sort of
realistic tension. But this brings up something else I don't like about the
character, too one-dimensional, and just contradictions happening all over the
place because Superman is just simply a God.

Gods are not role models, at least in my mind. People who have no problems bending over for authority or for omnipotent figures might disagree with that statement.

Monday, October 28, 2013

Find this sweet picture on reddit, a Joker parody of the famous cover of Uncanny X-Men 141 by Tom and Nelson Derenick. This particular story is what the next X-Men movie will be based on, a time traveling tale about a dystopian future where all the mutants are rounded up in concentration camps. Below is the original,which has its fair share of tributes.

Just by his answers, you can tell that he has a successful mind
set, and is evident why he wins tournaments. Look at this answer, to a question
of why he continues to play a 10 year old video game on a defunct platform.

"I love that Melee is a lot like
life. I have to learn to really apply myself and constantly improve or I will
be passed by and stepped on by others who want to also be successful. I love
depending on myself and learning how to motivate myself and discover myself
through the process of becoming a more talented Melee player. I love learning
about how to interact with myself and others through the process of continuous
improvement."

I really admire that kind of attitude
because it is transferable among your other sections of life, the skills
needed to master and play these competitive games on a high level. He's enjoying life but in a way that is not
near-sighted or unhealthy, and sees the future as something he is an idea for
and he is working for that. In his AMA, where he answers nearly question, he
always stresses the importance of hard work and meeting people, and that's how
you will improve faster and better. Seems like cliché advice, or something that
a good ole' southern boy like Dr. PeePee would say, but it holds tonssss of
merit.

Last night had such a fun time too, man. Our spot in the playing
order got switched to a later slot, not a good thing by the way, which is
incredibly fucked up, because people, like our singer's parents, showed up at a
certain time to watch us this late, on a Sunday night of all days. Ai o well. My girl though was so awesome, dancing in her rude
girl outfit, nun to some people I guess, and being her irresistible and funny
self throughout the night. Even drew out a sweet patch of the female
counterpart in this classic Specials sticker :)

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Today I randomly thought about a story I learned from my
Philosophy of Religion class while wiping the kitchen counters. It was story told
by a philosopher, his name escapes me, as he prefaces it by describing an
island inhabited by completely blind people (genetically they do not have the
gene for sight). They know how to survive on the island so their people prosper
for generations. However, through an act of god, a handful of people suddenly
get the ability to see. For the 1st time in the history of this island people,
the beautiful lush colors of the wildlife around them can be seen and magically
know what they are. Those lucky few 1st are breathless, and really want to tell
their family and friends about the new world around them. However they all face
the same problem, how can describe you describe color to somebody who has never
seen the light of day? They tried their hardest to think of a way to use communicate
these things they are observing, but questions in circle. "That bird is
red." "What is red?" "A bright color." "What is a
bright color...." And the sequence continues. It will not happen.

The point he is trying to make though is that this analogy,
is equivalent to somebody having a religious experience. Somebody who sees
visions from a higher power, how can you describe this otherworldly experience
to somebody else? The language and words you have knowledge of are not
sufficient because there is nothing like it before. Also it is unique
experience so the other person cannot relate to it. So don't knock off a
supposed crazy person because you really do not know if they are making it up
or actually felt something.

This is a cute story because it has certain storybook or
literature spin to it. An experience, a perspective, is needed to understand
something, and especially it comes with the supernatural. Not sure how I feel
about it personal, but as a creative individual these little stories really do
turn the cogs in the brain. It would be a crazy twist in life if these mental
illnesses were a side effect of an experience with something not of this world.
I guess that's the old Christian belief, where bad spirits do bad things to
people, but what really made this little tale memorable was the fact that
describing color, to someone who is unable to sense it, is an impossible task.
We are lead to believe in life, doing the impossible is the human spirit.
Putting a man on the moon, moving mountains, etc. But when the task of doing something words,
let alone a question of a description? Thought provoking stuff.

Still thinking about what I want dress up for Halloween,
playing a show with my Ska Band tomorrow night. Have a few ideas from all the
old clothes my grandparents have had for decades. Going to be a fun and groovy night.